


just the right amount of horny and flowery

by sunshineonmyback



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Other, Out of Character, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 04:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineonmyback/pseuds/sunshineonmyback
Summary: Aaravos wasn't always evil...was he? A past relationship offers a glimpse of what could've been.





	just the right amount of horny and flowery

**Author's Note:**

> Zahavi is a nonbinary man using they/them pronouns, thus the M/M and Other tag.
> 
> Warning for nonexplicit sex, thoughts about seriously injuring another person, and possibly OOC Aaravos, since we don't know too much about him.
> 
> AKA i saw an impossibly sexy man with long white hair and sparkly skin and immediately thought to write an oc banging him

Honeyed doesn't begin to describe his voice. If you had to put a word to it, you might choose _smooth_ or _tranquil_ , yet his silver tongue belays desires and secrets deeper than his timbre. One might even call him mischevious, had they known him from a young age. Others would name him dangerous, a betrayer, posessive.

He was, after all, a very ambitious man.

It was the kind of ambition that is followed by strength, skill, and compromise. He knows when to twist arms and when to kiss knuckles, when to manipulate his own image or let others do it for him.

He soon discovered that his usual methods would not work on Zahavi. Not that they were necessarily smarter, or stronger, or more versed in the inticracies of all Primordial magics, but that they knew what _he_ wanted.

Very few people do.

He could've been more careful. More measured in his expressions, more careful of his language. Maybe he was too careful, could've shown how elven he was instead of pretending he didn't feel anger or joy or weariness.

He thought he had everything planned out. A couple glances here, a touch or two there, and they would fall into his hands like putty. He knew there was more to the sunfire elf than met the eye, but he didn't know _what_.

Once Zahavi saw through him, it was over. He searched a hundred spells to break them, a thousand ways to make them forget, but he couldn't take the step. Not with them. Not with the only one who truly sees him.

 

* * *

 

 

Their first kiss consisted of him pressed against the balcony, a hundred feet behind him and two in front of him. Zahavi held him in place, not controlling, not dominating, just curious and tenative and careful. He had been too stunned to speak, all his plans crumbling with the press of those lips against him.

"You think too hard about matters that should be left to the heart." Zahavi had said, hand pressed against the star on his chest, shockingly intimate for how few words they had exchanged thus far.

"This isn't about my heart, Zahavi," he replied, falling back into his shell of manipulation. How had this happened? Where had this gone wrong? He tried to turn the conversation back. "What about you? This isn't _really_ your desire and you know it."

"No, it isn't. But neither is what you're thinking of." They said, pulling back. He let them, cautious if his touch would turn them away.

"I could think of other things," he tries, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he makes the decision to grab their hand.

It was the wrong decision. "You could." They left.

 

* * *

 

 

It's almost like destiny, he thinks, that they would come and rearrange his life like that. An inversal of his world, where he's no longer seeking power for its own sake, but the power to protect, to save, to love?

 

* * *

 

 

It's not like he _tried_ to seek them out, it's just that they happened to never be where he expected. The forge was metallic with the layered clanging of ten blacksmiths, and the arsenary was dirty with dust kicked up by hundred soldiers, yet their three-pointed horns were not there.

Zahavi found him first, a week later, slipping in through the door and speaking to his back. Asked if he had been looking for them, and he didn't lie. He never does.

"Come with me tonight," they said, and their tongue may not be silvered like his, or their words dripping with promises or influence, but he couldn't refuse.

They took him to the forge, now empty, where they kissed him dry like a desert. Pushed him against the uncomfortable rock walls and tore his cape off. The markings of Sunfire surface on their skin, eyes now black with its power. Lava turned them golden, an idol to worship with his tongue and hands.

He didn't dare use magic, even if it would make the process easier. He didn't dare touch them where they didn't ask him, even if his body sang for their contact. Everything they did, from pinning his hands above him to tracing his markings on his torso, made it seem like their soul knew his from the inside out.

He wasn't nervous, but he was afraid of what this means for someone to know him like this, even as a sticky little feeling wormed into his heart.

Zahavi had seen past his smirk and his title, pulled from his depths his loneliness and says "it doesn't have to be this way." In his desperation, he believed them.

 

* * *

 

 

Often, he came at night, phased through their door and into their sheets. Sometimes it was a night of sweat and curled toes, sometimes he listened to their heart under the palm of his hand, wondered at the arcanum inside their skin. When the stars were out he watched his glow contrast with theirs, blue against yellow, purple against orange. He never took from them, only accepted what was given. Where once he would have ravished and broke, he learned to coax and bruise, and recieve in turn.

Their dark brown hands on his, like the rich earth after a spring rain, like mohagony wood sanded smooth. Their thighs under his, warm like the heart of the land, like a physical embodiment of intimacy. Their mouth on his, dragging sounds he never said from his heart.

It burned too bright when they broke him open in all the best ways. And he wanted it, wanted _them_ , over and over and over again.

He wanted to promise them his life, but he never tells a lie. Yet it seemed closer to truth with every passing night.

They never told him to stay. They never asked him for more than he could give. It is frightening, finding someone who knows you better than yourself. It is exhilarating. It is a weakness.

He didn't see it coming.

Losing them to the humans was perhaps the beginning of losing himself. He denied, he accepted, and then he forgot. Built himself anew and he devoured what magic, power, knowledge he could.

Nobody could hurt him anymore, and they locked him away for that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please comment what u liked!!! or tell me why u think aaravos is/isn't evil


End file.
